


Screw Up

by unibadger2



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bars, F/M, Fluff, Reuniting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 13:08:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11692281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unibadger2/pseuds/unibadger2
Summary: After a particularly bad hunt you would usually go to the nearest bar and drown your problems in whiskey or beer; whichever you had a higher alcohol content. But the half-full bottle of painkillers you had downed earlier had warned you not to drink any alcohol for a couple of hours. So, while the long gash on your side thanked you, your sober mind did not.





	Screw Up

After a particularly bad hunt you would usually go to the nearest bar and drown your problems in whiskey or beer; whichever you had a higher alcohol content. But the half-full bottle of painkillers you had downed earlier had warned you not to drink any alcohol for a couple of hours. So, while the long gash on your side thanked you, your sober mind did not.

Instead of feeling sorry for yourself and moping in your motel room, you decided to go the only bar in town: a rundown old building with a gravel parking lot. Once you arrived you promptly consumed the most sugary drink you could find in the hopes of substituting the buzz of alcohol with a sugar high. 

It wasn't going very well.

First of all, you were surrounded by loud, obnoxious, drunk people. Second, a middle-aged man across the bar had been staring at you for the last half hour. 

You definitely had had better experiences.

Sighing into your glass, you set the cup down and rubbed your temples, trying to banish an oncoming headache. You were about ready to slink back to your motel room and curl up in the uncomfortable bed when a familiar voice rang in your ear.

“Y/N? That you?” You turned your head to the side to see a man plop down on the barstool next to you. Green eyes met your own as your lips quirked into a smile. The hunter before you looked older than you remembered; his limbs were no longer spindly and awkward, and he just _looked_ more mature. 

“Dean?” You breathed, chuckling slightly in disbelief. “What’re you doing here?”

“Sammy and I _were_ here for a werewolf case,” Dean started. “But it seems like somebody already took care of it. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?” Dean’s voice was teasing.

“You got me,” you laughed, holding up your hands in mock surrender. Sighing, you smiled up at the friend you hadn't seen in years. “God, it feels like I haven't seen you in forever. How long has it been?”

“Dunno. Wendigo hunt in ‘98?” Dean leaned back, adjusting his position on the wooden barstool. 

You smiled; you remembered that hunt like it was yesterday. Dean had called you when he hit a dead end in the research department. After a lot of groveling on his part, you made the long trek across the country to help him. The two of you ganked the wendigo eventually and ended the hunt with a beer and a picnic in the middle of a field. 

Neither you nor Dean had been used to being able to relax, not with the life you lived, but it was easy in each other's company. It’d always been like that, ever since you had met each other at Bobby’s.

“Yeah, think so.” Despite all the things you wanted to say, ‘yeah, think so’ was all you could come up with.

_Smooth._

Undeterred by your inept social skills, Dean grinned. “Hey, you wanna get out of here?”

_What the fu-_

* * *

“Y’know, when you said ‘you wanna get out of here’, this isn't what I had in mind.” 

Dean laughed. It was the kind of laugh that made you all warm inside; you never wanted that laugh to stop. “What, this isn't romantic enough for you?” 

After his poorly worded proposition, Dean had clarified what he meant. When you agreed, he drove you out to an empty field and spread out an old blanket to lie down on. 

“Nah, it’s perfect. Just like old times.” 

It really was. You couldn't count the number of times you and Dean had snuck out as teens to go stargazing in the middle of the night. There was something about that small act of rebellion that made you feel almost normal.

Tilting your head to the side, you found that Dean hadn't been staring at the bright stars overhead. Instead, he was staring at you.

“Dean?” You questioned softly. “You okay?”

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” Dean’s question caught you off guard.

“Wh-wha?”

“We've known each other our entire lives. I feel like I've loved you for even longer than that. I know I'm don't have the best past with, hell, anything, but I want to be with you forever. If you don't want that-fine, I just- I just wanted you to know that.” Dean swallowed thickly, his eyes flashing fearfully despite his confident words.

“Dean, I- I love you too.” You brought your hand up to rest on Dean’s cheek, smiling reassuringly. “I'm pretty sure neither of us know how to do this, so- let’s just screw this up together.”

Dean grinned. “Yeah, screw it up together.”


End file.
